


The Violence Of Disappointment

by redlionspride



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse, Beating, Blood, First Kiss, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Hux's Father is a Dick, Kissing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Physical Abuse, Prompt Fill, Psychological Trauma, Public Humiliation, The Most Warnings I Have Ever Used, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5876089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redlionspride/pseuds/redlionspride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events that destroyed Starkiller Base, General Hux's Father, Admiral Brendol Hux pays him and the <i>Finalizer</i> an inspection visit. The Admiral is there to degrade and humiliate his son for the dishonor to the family name and extreme disappointment. </p>
<p>Kylo Ren is not at all pleased with the mans actions. He's fairly vocal about it and when he finds a beaten general Hux he takes matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Violence Of Disappointment

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a prompt fill for tfa_kink. I'm not sure what happened but I suddenly took interest in Hux. The request was for pre-relationship Kylo/Hux, with possible abuse, set after the destruction of the Starkiller Base. 
> 
> Prompt Here:  
> http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=3667761#cmt3667761
> 
> WARNINGS: There are a lot of the here. Mostly it is parental abuse to his off spring. Past implied references to child abuse but nothing graphic. Hitting, beating to the point of blood. I didn't go into great detail, but warning have been made! If you feel I am missing a warning, please let me know, thank you!

The Admiral's shuttle sat down in the middle of the hanger bay of the _Finalizer_. A set of guards came down the ramp first, lining the way for the Admiral to make his descent. A row of Stormtroopers stood, double file on either side, as if to make an alley for the Admiral to walk through. 

At the end stood General Hux, stiff backed, proper and expressionless, his eyes stared off at the shuttle, waiting in perfect patience for the tall man to come towards him. To his left and behind stood Captain Phasma in all her chrome glory, and to his right stood Dark Warrior Knight Kylo Ren, still on the mend but appearance wise, as dark as the Sith ever appeared. 

As the Admiral approached, his steps clipped perfectly, one could see a resemblance to the General. The high cheek bones, the red hair streaking with white, just peeking out from under his hat. The perfect posture and cold eyes. The General saluted the man with a salute built on practiced perfection. “Greetings, Admiral Brendol Hux. Welcome aboard the _Fina--_ ” 

The back handed slap came out so suddenly and so hard that the clap across pale skin echoed through the hanger. The General was so thrown by the sudden slap that his body half twisted with it, head turned hard. To his own disgust he lost his balance with the slap, falling to one knee and hand to the ground. 

Within a blink, he stood swiftly, ignoring the ringing in his ears or the pure humiliating fact that his crew was here to see it. He came to stand perfect and straight once again, hands falling to the small of his back, crossing over each other and looking to the Admiral, his father, once again, as if nothing happened. 

He noticed a slight movement from Phasma beside him, knowing the woman was not at all keen on the attack on the General. Loyalty. He was grateful to his people's loyalty, but he did not want any of them to break rank and make a move. Thankfully she had common sense on her side and stayed at attention. 

The second slap came, just as deafening, but he was ready for it this time. His head twisted to the other side, eyes closing for a moment before straightening once more. Eyes coolly returning to look at his father's angry stern face. He could smell it at first, the blood filling his nose. He tried to hold it in, to keep the blood from falling. A single sniff helped. 

He could feel not only the anger from his father, but at his right there seemed to be a fire burning as well. He could feel the tension in the air for the entire crew that stood by to watch. His men. His loyal and well trained men. He might be a hard nosed, emotionless man, but he had a respect for his troops and his troops held a respect for him. To stand here and take this abuse in front of those men was humiliating, but there was a mild pride in his chest that none of them broke rank. 

They should never break rank unless ordered to move. 

They should always be perfect, polished and in line, as they all are now. 

“You disgust me.” Admiral Hux said in a low growling voice. “You are a disappointment! Your failure at Starkiller Base is unacceptable.” The man hissed, raising his hand again to back slap his son. The General's head turned, taking it with ease, and returned to staring at the man. This time blood trickled down his nose and to his lip, slipping into the just barely opened crack of his mouth, in order to catch the blood without letting it fall. Without letting it stain his perfect and pressed uniform. 

“You are being put under inspection. What few troops you have left are to be reviewed under my own watchful eye. We’ll see how far you have failed me and the First Order.” The man continued, looking as if he stepped in something disgusting just by looking at his son. 

“I named you after me so my name can shine for centuries to come. You’re a stain on my good name. Pray I don’t deem you worthless of your command as well, General.” And with that he raised his hand once again. 

Hux took in a breath, ready to exhale as the fourth hit came in, but the sound of a smack came in to something harder and above him. His eyes darted to the side, staring at the black leather glove that held the Admirals offending hand still. 

Hux couldn’t keep the surprise off his face, a stern glance to his right to look at the towering figure of the Dark Warrior standing there, hand out and holding his father's wrist, so he can't hit him again. 

“That is enough, Admiral.” Kylo Ren’s voice said darkly through the respirator of his new mask. A new design of helmet, as his other was lost with Starkiller Base. For a moment he could have been any of the Knights of Ren, but the voice was that of their Master. It was oddly comforting in a way that pissed Hux off. 

“Step down, Kylo Ren.” General Hux said sternly, glaring at him for interrupting. Does he not understand how much worse he could make this? Why the hell did he move anyhow?! 

“You will let me go this instant, Knight of Ren.” The admiral said, offence thick in his voice. 

“You have no authority over what I can and can’t do, Admiral.” Kylo’s voice echoed through the hanger, dark and vibrating. 

The Admiral looked offended, drawing his hand away with a yank and looking the Sith up and down. “I was under the impression that your pet Knight was in recovery, General.” He said, speaking to his son once again. 

Hux turned to look darkly at his father for the comment. _He is NOT my PET_ he thought with annoyance. “Supreme Leader Snoke requested his presence here, Admiral. His recovery was swift.” 

He shot Ren another glance, eyes shooting to the side as if to demand that he step back again. With that damned helmet on he couldn’t tell if the other was looking at him at all, but when he did step back he felt a weight lift from one section of his chest. The heat and hatred however still warmed him from the right. 

The Admiral looked over his son’s face, looking more so disgusted. Hux felt the gaze glance down to his chest, and he was sure, without looking, that he managed to get blood on his uniform. “Clean yourself up, child. You’re a disgraceful mess.” And with that the Admiral moved forward and past his son, snapping a finger to Captain Phasma. “Captain. I would like you to direct me to my room. I will start my inspection at once.” 

Hux, knowing his people, knew her eyes would be on him in a moment. Lowering his hand he allowed two fingers to direct her to go. Yes, do as he says. 

“This way, Admiral.” her accented voice said at a unamused clip, turning to move and guide the man out of the hanger. Hux raised a hand, finding that it trembled ever so slightly as he brushed it over his lip and under his nose. Anger growing in his already tightened chest. He turned and started to leave. Pointing to Phasma’s second in command to dismiss the troops. With that he stormed off in another direction, leaving the hangar bay. 

\-----

The inspection of ship was a disaster. The admiral marked down the most random and unique issues with the ship in any way possible. Discoloration of a wall here, a sliding door that did not seal properly, a drop of water on the floor of a refresher room, a cleaning droid in view as he went by. 

Hux was dreadfully proud of his crew. His people were loyal and well trained. Phasma made sure his hand picked stormtroopers were the best. Those that did not pass her tests did not get assigned to the _Finializer_. 

When he gave his speech on Starkiller Base is was not to show off or for dramatics, it was because he honestly was proud of what they had built. That every person in armor before him had a hand in the perfect planetary weapon. a weapon that had taken so very long to build. He wanted each of them to witness the power of the base, together. They deserved the praise as he deserved the spotlight. Perhaps a touch of dramatics, but it was earned. 

To be humiliated in front of even a fraction of what men he had left was degrading, but that was what his father had wanted. He knows how his old man thinks. He was raised by the rules of the Old Empire and with the thought that he too will rule the Universe as a Hux should. He had big ambitions. 

It felt that now things were falling out of his control and he didn’t like it. 

In his office he stood, his father approaching now with Phasma and several of his fathers men in tow. “That will be all, Captain.” he said to the Chrome Captain, dismissing her with a wave.

Hux can't tell with the helmet, but he’s sure the woman was staring at him before she bowed her head and left. 

The Admiral reached to yank a data pad out of the hand of one of his men and waved a hand to dismiss them. The group left, leaving Father and Son to stand alone in one's office. The door closed with a hiss, making Hux temporarily feel a sinking cold dread wash over him again. 

He’s been here before, but never for a fuck up as bad as this. Another minute and everything would have been fine. Another minute and the Resistance would be no more, like the Republic was stripped down. 

Apparently destroying the majority of the Republic would never be enough. 

The Admiral reported to him, every discrepancy he could find. Every scrap that was out of place. Every trooper that didn’t salute with a perfect clip of their hand. Hux knows his ship is well run. There are issues, here and there, but every ship has issues. And his ship was the best in the fleet. The men were the best in the fleet. Phasma picked every one of them perfectly. 

But he knows his father. He knows that the man would rather shit in the middle of the floor and point it out as a disgusting display of his own son's leadership. 

As soon as the report was done however, he knew that Admiral and General were soon to be over and Father and Son would be next. They were behind closed doors after all. 

The first strike of his fist, not hand, had turned his head hard, mouth opening to gasp. The second rocked him back into his own desk, the back of his hand rubbing over his lower lip and coming away with blood. 

There was nothing to be said to any of this. He didn’t even hear the words the man yelled over him. With each hit, they were more and more demeaning. Demanding perfection from an embarrassment of a son. Demanding satisfaction and competence. Accusing him for every single misfortune to have happened with Starkiller Base, with this very ship, with the crew. Calling them inept. 

By the fifth hit he hit the floor to one knee, face bleeding but still holding himself up, taking the punishment he knew would come. This wasn’t new. This wouldn’t go in records. This is how it has always been. Hux fought to keep his blank calm through every hit. 

As the eight strike came in he found himself on the floor, breaking his hard earned natural calm and covering his head with an arm, his body actually curling on it’s own, as if to protect himself. For a moment he was ten again, he was twelve again, nineteen, taking the apparently well earned beatings for mistakes. He always learned after them, didn’t he? 

His head spun, losing count for how many other hits he earned after the last one. His body flinched with each one, and a kick to the side had finished it off, knocking the breath from him, leaving him coughing on the floor of his very own office. 

Through foggy half opened eyes he watched the man turn a walk away, headed out of the office and into the hall. His door sliding shut with a hiss once again, leaving him alone as always. He didn't remember closing his eyes, but he did, letting darkness take over for a moment. 

\-----

There was a pain in his side as he felt someone roll his body over. With a groan he allowed it, laying on the floor, one leg drawing up to a bent knee position as the other stuck out. Mentally he was taking stock of what was wrong with his body now. 

One eye wouldn’t open, swollen shut. 

Lip was split, it felt like in two places. 

Bloody nose, though not broken, perhaps. 

Intense pain at his jaw and cheekbone. Must have aggravated the old fracture in his jaw from the time before. 

Ribs. Some shoulder pains. A shaking of his shoulder, actually. 

That got his attention, realizing once again that someone had pushed him over to his back.

With a very slow turn of his head he looked towards the dark figure hovering over him, his head spinning still, in pain and annoyance. One good eye blinked, staring up at the unfamiliar new mask that he didn’t care much for. Too new. Too clean. No dings or scratches. He liked the clean look in every thing in his life, but the mask of Kylo Ren should look harsh and battle worn but well kept. This new one did not suit him. 

He was now more annoyed at the thoughts at all. “Go away.” he growled out of swollen lips. 

“The door is locked.” The man said through the mask, heavy toned and filtered, a rumble of words that sometimes sent a pleasant shiver down Hux’s back. Right now they brought nothing but annoyance. 

“I said... go _away_.” Hux growled again, eye closing as his head continued to swim. 

There was a click from the mask, the front place unlatching and lifting, allowing for the mask to be removed. He didn’t look at first, but now he heard the Knights voice on it’s own. There was a confused sort of concern hidden in his tone, though still that pleasing deep sound. “Why do you let him do that?” 

“What is it… about ‘go away’ do you not understand, Ren?” He breathed out with a hiss, moving now to try and sit up. He made it as far as sitting up on his elbow before the pain hit him with a wash of dizziness, tipping back again. Strong hands reaching out to help him do so. 

“He shouldn’t be able to get away with this kind of treatment.” Kylo said instead of answering that, leaning over the other, a gloved hand carefully coming to Hux’s face, checking out the wounds. 

“You wouldn’t understand.” He hissed, reaching a hand up to bat the others hand away. This is the last thing he wanted. To have anyone at all see him like this. Bloody, swollen, unappealing and imperfect. He was meant to be a symbol of power and he had just been demeaned and trashed, left to bleed on his own floor. 

“I understand trying to live up to your fathers expectations more than you know.” The man said on a low voice, now moving away from Hux. Leaving, he hoped.

“Fortunately for you, that’s not a concern for you anymore.” After all, the man had killed his father, much like Snoke had apparently wanted. The freedom that it granted the man must have felt good. He wouldn’t know such freedoms for some time. 

There was no reply to that, and for a moment he hoped the other was leaving. He heard the hiss of a door open, then close. Letting out a sigh he was grateful, but also mildly… empty, for some reason. Hollow feeling, being left here to lay, alone. 

He berated himself mentally for the thought, moving now to sit up, head still spinning, but he forced himself to get to a knee, his hand reaching for his desk to steady him. On a mental count of three he pushed himself up to his desk, stumbling a bit until he sat back, rear on the edge of the metal desk and waiting there. 

This was a bad one. This was worse than the three he had before this. There had always been beatings when growing up. Small ones, but there had only been for out of extreme disappointment. Those had lead to hospital time in some cases.

This was bad, but he would recover. Yet he felt as if he had worse before, though this has been his largest offence ever. He took full responsibility for the loss of Starkiller Base, and even the Supreme Leader Snoke didn’t punish him so terribly. 

Perhaps Snoke left that privilege to his father. 

He could hear running water, turning his head towards the door to his personal refresher, sighing now as he realized were Kylo had gone. Damn. 

The door opened again and the tall man returned, balancing a round white wash basin on top of a small white first aid kit. 

Looking up to see the General sitting on the edge of his desk Kylo almost frowned at him. “Sit.” He said, nodding towards the office chair as he walked to the desk. 

“I am sitting.” the wounded General said in childish protest. 

“In the chair.” The other said darkly, sitting the water and first aid kit on the desk, taking up a washcloth from the water and wringing it out. His gloves had been removed and the sleeves of his tunic had been partly rolled up. “Now, Hux.” 

“You do _not_ give me orders.” He said, more of his own spite showing as he said it. However, he was moving, his hand skirting the edge of the desk, keeping him stable without looking like he was relying on it as much as he was. When he got to his chair he took a seat, glad for the mildly plush comfort of his old and not so comfortable chair. It was better than the floor at least. 

With surprise he felt a damp hand touch his forehead, tilting his head back to inspect his face again. “I can do it myself.” Hux growled at the other, reaching for the washcloth in annoyance. The Dark Warrior pulled his hand back with the cloth, not allowing the man to take it. 

“The stormtroopers are loyal to you, you realize.” he said instead, bringing the cloth to the man's face and starting to clean it with surprising gentleness.

“Of course they are.” Hux grumbled past swollen bleeding lips. They were raised to be loyal to the Order. They would do as told. All but one little shit trooper that caused them so much trouble recently. Hux was fearful for a moment, that others would start to break, but Phasma was good and cleared all of her people. Those who seemed to weaken were reconditioned and happily returned to their ranks. Those were the younger ones. The ones that had served him for years now all were as loyal as they came. 

“They are not happy about what the Admiral has done. These men are loyal to _you_ not just the First Order. The Admiral better watch his back while he’s here.” 

“That’s treason talk, Ren.” Hux hissed, then winced at the feel of the compressed air of the hiss over his split lips. “If those men are loyal to me they will hold their ranks as do as told.” He said, trying to bat the hand away from his face once more as it stung. 

Ren didn’t seem bothered by the weak kitten like pushing and kept working, stony face unchanged but still watchful of where he worked. The Knights of Ren were all well versed in taking care of their own wounds after all. This was nothing. “You can’t blame them for being... upset. Those men would do anything for you. You are a pillar of perfection in their eyes. Seeing you degraded like this is bound to upset them.” 

“Enough, Ren. I don’t want to hear it.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper now, eyes both closed and letting the other clean his face. Why was he even here. This had nothing to do with him. He didn’t need the lecture.

Hearing the cloth being washed out in the basin and twisted again he peeked the eye open to watch the other. He felt annoyance spread through him still, but also appreciation. The man had a long jagged lightsaber scar across his face, just barely missing his right eye. It had healed and cleaned, but it left the man's face scarred for life. So untreatable and yet there was something about it that seemed fitting. Not in a ugly way. 

He found it strangely appealing. 

Which is where the next wave of annoyance came in. He moved to sit up more, head spinning as he reached for a drawer, looking for a bottle of pills to take something for this headache. His head tipped down to try and see the front of his uniform, frowning slightly as he did. “How’s the uniform?” 

“Ruined.” Ren said simply in a dry tone. 

_Fuck._ He thought to himself, sighing. “Second one today.” he had changed after the first blood mess from the hanger. He should have known better. 

Kylo continued to work, cleaning up the worst parts, disinfecting some cuts, and patching the worst of it over his cheekbone. “You need a doctor.” He said at last, tossing the rag to the basin and picking it up, walking back to the bathroom to dispose of the water once again. 

“I need you to give it a rest.” the general said, letting his head hang a bit between his shoulders and resting his sore chin on his chest.

When the man returned again he paused before the desk, appraising the General critically. “What he said is not accurate, you know.” The Sith said, staring at the battered man who could only look back with one eye. “You are not a disappointment.” 

Hux didn’t know what to say to that. He just stared for a bit, watching the other stare back. Then Ren moved, stepping over to pick up his helmet from the floor with both hands, the ungodly heavy item clicked in his hands and he slipped it on over his head and fluffy hair. After it snapped into place the voice became deeper once more. The young but scared face of the dark warrior once again going to something a bit more intimidating. “And he is not a good father, or admiral.” 

With that he turned to head for the door, leaving Hux there alone at his desk. However, before unlocking the door at the switch he glanced back. “There will be a doctor sent shortly. You will let him in.” He opened the door and stepped out to leave. 

“You don’t give me orders.” Hux said with a glaring half hearted hiss, leaning on the desk for now and letting the world spin. Sometimes he didn’t understand that man. Other times he wished he did. 

\-----

The inspection lasted for four very long days. The General was rarely seen on deck the entire time the Admiral was there. On the day of his departure the two Hux men did not meet. Instead, General Hux dressed, fixed his face with a bit of cream to hide the bruised colors and reported to his bridge. His back tall and flat, his uniform immaculate and well pressed, his shoes so shined they were like black glass, and every single red hair was in place. 

He stood at the bridge, hands behind his back and watching the space before him. The tension in the air on the bridge was tight, but of course it was. He was sure every man on deck had lost respect for him. Who would respect a disappointing failure such as him right now. 

He would right this, in time. Make them see him for the Leader he was meant to be. Earn the respect again. 

“Admiral Hux’s shuttle is leaving for the _Eradicator_ now sir.” A crewmen reported from the pit. He stared off at the Super Star Destroyer near by, his father's ship. He gave the man a simple nod. 

Foot falls came slowly behind him, not the ones of his normal assistant either. Heavy boots of a Knight. Kylo Ren came in beside him, a respectful distance away to stare out the front view port with him. 

He wanted him to go away. 

As the shuttle pulled away from the ship, headed for it's home hanger bay, he stared, eyes flat, emotionless. He hated that man. He hated his father with every broken bone his body has ever had. With every bruise and bloody nose. He hated him with a passion he still was unable to demonstrate to him. 

From beside him he heard a soft click from Ren, a single glanced spared to the man, only to be taken away once again, his eyes growing wide as the shuttle in the forward view was suddenly engulfed in a ball of fire. Parts of the shuttle shot off in this and that direction, pieces shattered out in every direction as the fire swiftly was put out in the oxygen-less expanse of space.

Alarms suddenly went off on the bridge, but Hux had not reacted to them yet. His eyes were wide with surprise as he stared at the debris of the shuttle before them. His hand reaching forward to touch the railing at the forward view, unsure if he was stabilizing himself, or trying to get a better view. 

The entire bridge crew seemed to be silent though. No one was jumping into action. Most of them stared as alarms went off. 

The first person to speak was a communications ensign. “General Vears of the _Eradicator_ is on the line sir. Requesting to speak.” 

Hux stood still, unmoving for a moment longer, staring. 

Beside him, at his right, he saw motion of Kylo Ren, his hand sliding a small device into his pocket, before turning around and leaving, walking out slowly and silently through the now moving crowd of people.

Hux turned to watch him go, eyes staring at his back, unsure of what he just saw, and unsure of how he felt about it. 

“Sir. The General?” Comms said again, holding up a holodisk. 

General Hux moved into action, waving above him to say. “Kill the alarms. Transfer it to my office.” He pointed to Comms and calmly, with a clip in his step once again, left the bridge for his office, to speak with his father's general. 

There would be an investigation, of course, but no bodies were found, and on official report, other than a malfunction had been stated.

There was something hollow in his chest still, but there was nothing missing from it either. No empty father shaped space that he thought would come with the loss of the man. Apparently there had never been a space for him in his heart anyhow. 

When the incident was brought up with Ren, the results were not as Hux had intended. Stopping by the mans training room to find the Sith warrior training, Hux entered, closing the door and setting the lock, so no one else would bother them. 

“What did you do?” He said, tone flat but still accusing. 

“I do not know what you are referring to.” the dark tone of the helmet said as he moved in a slow motion, still trying to get his strength back up from the bow-caster shot to his gut at Starkiller Base. 

“Remove the helmet and tell me that to my face.” The General demanded as he crossed the room, arms crossed.

It took a moment, to which Hux was sure now that he was being stared at, but Ren moved to unlatch the mask and pull the Helmet off, holding it to the side with one hand. His pale face and dark eyes stared back, flat, emotionless, but watchful. He looked so young, even with the nasty scar over his face. “I don’t know what you are referring to.” He repeated, each word spoken slowly and clearly. 

Hux stared for a moment, debating if he wanted to hit the man or… 

He moved forward, grabbing Ren by the front of his uniform, pulling the taller man down to him and pressing his lips to the man's, almost harshly. An aggressive kiss, sudden and rough. A thank you. He pushed into the others chest, making him step back the three steps into a wall and leaning into Kylo once he could move no farther. 

The kiss was not soft, but there was a strange energy there. Perhaps not a ‘passion’ but a heavy need none the less. His lips were not fully healed, and the sting he felt almost felt good. Almost as good as the fact that the man was kissing him back.

The kiss didn’t last long, harsh and fast as it was, Hux pulled back, letting himself lick over his broken lower lip as he stepped back, giving Ren a critical eye. He reached down to fix his uniform, running a hand over it and backing away. 

“I am not pleased with you.” He said darkly, though there was a slight pull at his lips that could be an almost smile. 

“Your lips say otherwise.” Kylo said in a slow and careful kind of way, watching as Hux turned to head to the door. 

“You will not speak of this again.” Hux said, reaching the door and unlocking it by code, opening it and starting out. 

“You’re welcome.” Kylo called out after the perfectly presented General, pulling his helmet up and hiding his scared face once again. 

The incident was not brought up again either. Nor was the button trigger device he was sure the other man had held and pocketed. 

Not a single person of the _Finalizer_ seemed upset over the loss of the Admiral, and he was fairly sure he noticed a moral pick up shortly after. 

He realized his own mood picked up as well. 

He didn’t look at Kylo Ren the same way again either. That not only annoyed him but pleased him in the same twisted sense of time.

At least, he found, he wasn’t disappointed.


End file.
